


Inspires A Rabbit

by bluejoseph



Series: CANYOUSAVE [1]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Dreams, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, actually this could be platonic if you squint??, could be read as platonic, descriptions of violence are minor but I wanted to mark it, heavydirtysoul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 17:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejoseph/pseuds/bluejoseph
Summary: Wild cottontail rabbits, when spotting a possible threat, will completely freeze, staying still and hoping the eyes of the wolves will pass them by. They sit, frozen, waiting for life, or for death.Tyler is waiting, in this way.





	Inspires A Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> me? venting/projecting?? it's more likely than you'd think. also, I think I used the word 'wait' too much.

Tyler’s eyes shoot open and refuse to close.

The first thing he is aware of is the sliver of light from the cracked door, and after peering for a moment he can see a figure moving in the kitchen, hear the sound of the coffeemaker. 

He can’t move.

His mind is simultaneously paralyzed with fear and racing from thought to thought, panicked. He can’t close his eyes, he can’t move; he just lays there and waits.

Tyler waits for his bed to split in two, letting him fall to the ground. He waits for the terrifying roar of engines too close, too close. He waits for the figure in the kitchen to crawl up to him on all fours and tear his face clean off.

His eyes stare, unblinking like they’re watching the sky fall to pieces around him.

None of these things happen, but he can’t predict what will be. At this moment, some part of his brain is still stuck in his nightmares, seeing the most illogical, awful things fall into place and reminding him how small, how insignificant he really is. How much of this world is unreal.

Wild cottontail rabbits, when spotting a possible threat, will completely freeze, staying still and hoping the eyes of the wolves will pass them by. They sit, frozen, waiting for life, or for death.

Tyler is waiting, in this way.

And then the door is creaking open, softly, and the figure is coming into the room. Tyler’s eyes stay transfixed, straight ahead, heart hammering as he waits to die.

“Ty? It’s time to get up.”

He doesn’t respond.

The figure--it’s Josh, he thinks it’s Josh--slowly comes over to his side of the bed. “Are you awake?”

Nothing.

Josh reaches out a hand, still slow, and touches his stiff shoulder. “Can you hear me?”

Painfully, Tyler moves his eyes to look into Josh’s. He’s still afraid to move.

The look in Josh’s face turns to one of recognition, and sadness. “Can I climb in with you?”

Tyler blinks.

His darling carefully lifts the blankets to reveal Tyler’s stiff form, crawling into bed beside him and pulling the blankets up high, high enough to cover up the bottom half of Tyler’s face, the way he likes. He wants to flinch at the feeling of a body touching him, holding him, but he stays still.

Josh tries. He rubs circles into Tyler’s shoulders, he cards his fingers through his hair over and over. He rubs his arms like he’s trying to warm them up. He hugs him like he’s dying, after all.

It takes three hours.

By eight, Tyler is defrosting. He’s not steady, no, but he can move. He burrows into Josh, letting the other boy murmur soft, soothing words to him, distract him with tales of better times. 

Every time his darling kisses him--the bags under his eyes, behind his ear, the bridge of his nose--some part of him becomes a little less cold.

“Are you feeling any better?” Josh finally asks.

He nods, slow. He doesn’t want to open his mouth.

“Do you want to...do you want to talk about--?”

He shakes his head swiftly. He doesn’t want to talk about his nightmares. He doesn’t want to think about them, either. If he doesn’t think about them, they can’t hold any power over him. Not unless he’s trapped in them, anyway.

“Okay.” Josh pulls gently on a tuft of Tyler’s hair. “How about a shower?” he suggests instead; Tyler is grateful for the change of subject. He’s grateful for Josh. “I’ll wash your hair.”

He nods, and with kind encouragement, he sits up. He’s not steady, no.

But he’ll get there.

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes I feel cold, even paralyzed


End file.
